07.06.03
So, there's this thing called friendster, into which someone named Daniel coerced me into joining, sometime in April.
The gist of it is that, like a pyramid scam, you get all of your friends to join, they get all of their friends to join, etc., and then you have this colossal network of people that you know by association.
Ideally, you use it to make new friends, thus the silly name.
Many people take it somewhat seriously, and put up sincere profiles, while others make silly fake profiles, like Gay Cliche, or one of the zillion or so different Kevin Bacons.
The first person that contacted me on friendster was some guy named Anthony, but called himself "Big Perm," who wanted to know more about me. I jokingly told him that before I was prepared to tell him my life story, I was going to require a 30-word essay on why he called himself "Big Perm." Instead of taking it like the joke it was, he wanted to know if people always did what I told them to do, to which I responded that they usually didn't, and I just wanted to know if it'd work in Chicago. He never got back to me on that.
Oh well.
Hell, I didn't even know it was all that big until I heard they guys from Jane's Addiction, less Perry, guesting on Loveline, and telling some girl to get onto Friendster and make new friends there.
To whatever end, about the only people I talk to on it anymore are Chicagoite rockstars and dj's.
Now, I don't really know a lot of rockstars. When I lived in Iowa City, I used to sometimes go see the same bands play over and over again in the different bars around town. I think I mostly did it because I already knew the lyrics to all of their songs, and I wasn't in the mood to learn new songs by different bands. I think I saw ...these days at least 12 times one summer, for example. I went and saw Big Audio Dynamite II when they came through town because ...these days were the opening band. I bought their CD and both of their tapes. I even went to the CD release party at their house and got all of them to sign the inside liner. And I swear I am not a stalker. Okay, maybe I had the hotpants for the lead singer, Paul H., but it was quite unrequited, so it wasn't a real issue. I just really dug their music. Had Morrissey or Björk been on hand, I'd probably have done the same thing to either or both of them.
I used to go see Six Mile Bridge play whenever they were in town, and I would have seen Stuart Davis more than the three times I saw him perform, but I was a little late hopping on to that bandwagon. I shoulda just trusted Kate when she told me he was a religious experience.
So, at the recommendation of a bonafide rockstar, I went to a show that his band was playing at, and not only met him, but also met more rockstars, all of whom I adored.
I would imagine that you never know what you're going to get, meeting rockstars. I certainly didn't know what to expect. Judging by the broody, angsty-in-a-good-way lyrics that Daniel writes, I was fully prepared to encounter a self-indulgent, moody, effete snob. Sure, he didn't come across that way when I talked to him online, but you never know what to expect with rockstars, like I said. Imagine my surprise when he turned out to be a total sweetheart, who bakes cookies and cakes for fans and birthday bassists, and made sure to introduce me around so that I wasn't left alone to wallflower out because I didn't know anyone there. Martha Stewart ain't got nothing on this boy, except perhaps the bitchy and the empire. He's sensitive and courteous, for criminy's sake, as well as a talented artist.
All that and dreamy*, too.
Ten years ago I woulda been flinging my little baby-goth panties at the stage, I tell you.
And ohmygosh, Christine, the singer from Flutter to whom Daniel introduced me, is exactly who I would have wished to grown up into, those self-same ten years ago. While our range of cross-over interests aren't huge, they are freakishly similar enough to make me instantly love her. She's an artist, a pixie, loves hello kitty, girly pink things, and I am entirely sure is also inclined to believe that there is nothing that can't ultimately be fixed with a little glitter glue. She makes me miss myself from the first round of college. You know, before I went all nutty-in-a-bad-way, and dropped out.
And you wouldn't believe the pipes on this girl. Regrettably, I missed Flutter's performance, but I listened to some samples on their site, and wow.
If I had to describe her to strangers, I would call her an utterly delightful, colorful confection of a girl with a tinkerbelly full of equal parts Siouxsie Sioux, Shirley Manson, Ute Lemper, and the best bits of old-school Madonna. She should be an anime character. Or a tiny Japanese kewpie doll pop star, like Puffy (AmiYumi). She makes me feel the music all the way down into the pinkest bits of my heart of hearts.
Hell, they both do.
I just wish that they all played more gigs in this town. I mean, I gotta wait until the end of August to hear Flutter live, which is a long time hence.
*Don't worry, Daniel. I'm not making moves. I'm just dishing.
What's in your head?